


Out of Season: Shezan's Dream

by Elizabeth Culmer (edenfalling)



Series: Out of Season [2]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Calormen, Deleted Scenes, Dreams, Fictional Religion & Theology, Gen, Missing Scene, Religious Discussion, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Visions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2012-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-08 12:27:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1941078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edenfalling/pseuds/Elizabeth%20Culmer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night before the Spring Festival, Shezan Tolkheera meets two gods in a dream.  (Cut scene from "Out of Season.")</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of Season: Shezan's Dream

**Author's Note:**

> I cut this scene from "Out of Season" because it made that story a little too divine intervention-y. I like characters to make their choices for internal reasons, not because some deity said "Do this OR ELSE." And since Shezan mostly forgot the dream anyway, it seemed weird to keep the scene when it had no practical effect on the plot. (I then lost the file for over a year, because I accidentally saved it in a completely unrelated folder that I'd had open for some reason. Whoops.)
> 
> But I like the implicit theology and world-building, not to mention the interaction between Shezan, Achadith, and Aslan, so I am posting this snippet for the sake of completeness. *grin*

Shezan always slept badly the nights before the four great festivals that marked the cycle of the sun and the changing seasons. She expected to sleep even worse this year, what with the beaver locked up in her temple and the escape plans she still hadn't passed on to anyone. Instead, she fell into deep, drowning blackness the minute her head touched her pillow, almost as if she were drugged or caught by sorcery.

She dreamed that she stood on a high, cold mountain: a barren place above the clouds, where the only sign of life was an occasional patch of faded lichen on wind-scoured stone. A sheer cliff dropped thousands of yards just beyond her feet, down through scudding clouds to a shadowed forest so far below that the tallest trees looked like ragged green toothpicks.

Shezan took a long step backward and turned.

Then she fell to her knees and pressed her forehead to the stone, so she would not offend Achadith by looking directly upon her.

The goddess was impossible to comprehend -- both so bright she put the sun to shame, and so dark that even Azaroth's cloak would seem like daylight in comparison. She was tall and short, beautiful and monstrous, serene and enraged. As soon as Shezan's mind identified a fixed aspect, it shifted. For Achadith was, above all things, the goddess of _change_ \-- of the sharp cut that was both ending and beginning, the unexpected chance that could birth glory or disaster. The other gods maintained the patterns of the world and Tash ruled them, but Achadith stood outside the dance and saw where it should be altered.

"O great queen, you who hold the world in the palm of your hand, I am your servant and your slave," Shezan managed to say. "Whatever you wish this unworthy one to do, I will obey."

"Then rise, Shezan Tolkheera," the goddess said, and her voice was a deafening whisper, the harsh bray of battle horns and the soft melody of chimes. The sound caressed Shezan's heart like silk and knives, until she wanted to hear it forever no matter how hard it was to bear. "Rise and hear my will."

Shezan raised her head and torso, but could not bring herself to stand.

"She who took my name is banished to the eternal half-life of demons. Rishti Tisroc, under the guidance of Tash, has broken the western rebels after a century of war. It is time for Calormen to walk a new path," Achadith said in her impossible voice. "It is time for peace."

"Peace within and without," added a deep, rumbling voice. Shezan felt hot breath on the nape of her neck and twisted.

The Accursed Lion stood between her and the edge of the cliff, its muzzle lowered so that its golden eyes were on a level with hers.

"Greetings, child," the Lion said. "Fear not. I bear no harm to those who walk the paths of righteousness, no matter how far they stray in the journey."

Shezan scrambled backwards, tangling her linen skirts around her knees, seeking Achadith's protection. The goddess was terrifying, but that terror was familiar. The Lion was unknown. And his teeth were long, his claws were sharp, and he was very large -- his mane seemed to hold the light of the sun and the darkness of the storm, as if he encompassed the sky entire.

"Those who serve me do not stray," Achadith said in her ever-changing voice. "You are here under truce. Do not mistake that for surrender."

"All find what they truly seek. Who are we to say where the search may lead?" the Lion said, in his deep, soft voice, which held something of the same dangerous beauty as Achadith's. He swung his great head low to lock his eyes with Shezan's. "Child, your goddess has a request for you. It is not a command. Your choice is yours alone, as it ever has been and ever will be, to the end of this world and beyond. I also have a request for you. Tomorrow, the fate of one under my protection hangs in the balance. Your actions will spell her life or her death. I ask that you find mercy in your heart."

The Lion bowed his head. The sunlight caught in his mane grew brighter and brighter until Shezan closed her eyes in pain.

When she opened them, the Lion was gone.

"The Lion is subtle, and he is our foe until the end of this world, but he is honorable. If he says his words are only a request, he speaks the truth. I, however, command you," Achadith said. Shezan twisted again, settling onto her knees. She glanced sidelong up at the shifting aspect of the goddess and awaited her words.

"Shezan Tolkheera, you who have sworn your life and soul to my service, know that all things that happen this day are my will and my sign," Achadith said. "Calormen must have peace and the Lion has agreed to aid my plans. Prince Rabadash must look north for his fate, will he or nil he, and only his heart can determine whether that fate will be cruel or kind. He will bring peace to Calormen either way. You will convey that message to all those who gather to witness the sacrifice."

Shezan wet her lips with a nearly equally dry tongue and murmured, "To hear is to obey."

"To obey is to be righteous," Achadith said, the old completion of the exchange that no one had used for nearly two hundred years. "Now wake and face the dawn."

Shezan opened her eyes to gray light seeping through her gauzy curtains. She would have sworn she had only just lain down, yet the whole night had passed in what seemed a minute. She had a vague memory that she had had an important dream -- something about light and darkness and a high mountain, and voices that made her want to follow forever -- but the details were leaking away like sand poured through the sieve of wakefulness.

Well, if it was important, she would remember sooner or later.

In the meantime, Shezan had a morning invocation to perform and all the madness of the Spring Festival to manage -- not to mention she still had not warned anyone about the Narnians' plan to rescue Marigold Beaver, nor did she know if Rabadash had come to his senses and abandoned his dream of patricide.

Groaning, Shezan set her feet on the cool stone floor and wondered if she would survive the day.


End file.
